Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Maybe being alone wasn’t so bad, after all. It was safe. Uncomplicated. And it didn’t involve me getting flustered and having no clue what to say, acting hopelessly awkward like I’d been all day around Chase. No matter how cute he was.
5
CHASE
I pulled on a brand-new blue long-sleeve shirt, the soft cotton sliding over my skin. I could hear the faint thump of bass coming from the apartment downstairs—it was Friday evening, and everyone on Spruce Street seemed to be getting their own little party started.
It had been a few days since I’d first met Adam, and he hadn’t used my number in the time since I’d given it to him. I was pretty sure that I’d only ever see him again while filming his house for renovations, or anonymously when I watched his videos online.
So tonight, my goal was to do what I always did: find some random cute-enough guy to hook up with for one night only. Adam was hot, but I was pretty sure I’d been a little too forward with him the other day.
I liked the guy. I liked him a little bit too much. But I didn’t want to scare him.
I checked myself in the mirror near the front door of my apartment. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, seeing my brother Jamie’s name on the screen for a video call.
“Just the person I need to see right now,” I told Jamie as I saw his face pop up on my phone. “I need an outfit check before I go to the brewery.”
“Outfit checker, on duty,” Jamie said. My brother and I had been close forever, and we video chatted all the time. He’d call me to ask how he looked, and I’d do the same--in reality it was just always a nice excuse to talk and see each other’s faces for a bit.
I held up my camera near the mirror. “Just got this blue long-sleeve. Is it good tight, or too tight?”
“I think that is definitely good tight,” Jamie confirmed.
“It’s softer than a fucking sloth’s tummy,” I told him. “Sure as hell feels good.”
Jamie snorted. “A sloth’s tummy? What the fuck?”
“What?” I protested. “They always looked soft to me in the cute videos.”
“How do you even know what a sloth’s belly feels like?” Jamie protested.
“I don’t,” I said. “But if it’s soft, then I guarantee you, this shirt is softer.”
“You’re crazy, and I love you. You going out with somebody tonight?” he asked.
“No one on deck,” I told him, turning a couple of times in the mirror. “But hopefully there will be somebody cute at Jade Brewery.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Victor left town,” Jamie said. “You seemed to have fun with him.”
“No biggie,” I said, waving a hand. “Onto better things. It’s trivia night at the brewery, so I have high hopes.”
“Since when do you like trivia?”
“I don’t like it,” I said. “I mean, it’s fun, but I don’t know jack shit about anything other than the art, the entertainment industry, and cameras, and that stuff doesn’t come up as often as U.S. presidents or geography.”
“So why are you so excited for it?”
I winked into the phone camera. “Trivia nights attract hot, smart guys. And I like smart guys. They’re always good in bed.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t my brother I’d think you were a nut job.”
“You already think I’m a nut job.”
“Very true.”
I gave him a look in the camera. “Jamie, you have to visit Colorado. You’d love it here.”
“I’ll visit when I retire or when I win the lottery. Whichever happens first,” he said.
“Your ass better visit Colorado before you retire,” I said. “You’re way too young to wait that long.”
He grumbled. I watched him shift on the couch he was sitting on, and I could hear his roommates in the background.
It was a slightly sore subject. Jamie still lived in the tiny beach town where we’d both grown up in California, and as a restaurant line cook, he didn’t usually have much cash on hand.
I’d moved to Colorado on a whim for a guy I was dating four years ago.
And then I’d promptly been dumped by that guy. He’d encouraged me to use all of my savings to move here after only knowing him for two months.
Soon after, I’d told him I loved him.
Then he’d told me I was “too much,” and kicked me to the curb.
That may as well have been ancient history, now. Even though he had been a prick, I’d landed on my feet as best as I could. I’d fallen in love with the mountains and made friends, and now I was glad that I’d come to Colorado.
But that guy was also the last person I’d ever truly dated. My hopeless romantic days were over. Since I’d been so badly burned, I’d been strictly no-strings-attached for the last four years, and it was a freedom I’d badly needed in my life. I still had fun. I still made connections.